Boxed Set: Intercepted by Love (The Complete Collection): Books One - Book Six (67 page)

The next morning, Andie woke up hot. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and turned out of bed. A deep cramp bent her double as she hobbled to the bathroom to change her pad. The nurses had said bleeding was normal, but how much was too much?

The bathroom floor turned circles and she tumbled to the ground. Her heartbeat raced, and she struggled to get up, feeling as if her arms and legs were made of jelly.

“Mom, Mom, help me,” she called, but only made a faint noise.

Andie closed her eyes, and rested her feverish forehead on the cooler floor. Where was Cade now? Would he be able to catch Rob and Devon? How was Bonnie? Had the doctor checked her out? At least she was in the hospital where she’d be taken care of.

Andie’s breasts were hard and hot, and she ached for her baby. Her arms empty, and her entire body in pain, she lay on the floor and prayed for them.

“Andie, are you okay?” Her mother shook her shoulder, waking her.

Andie shivered and her breathing was too shallow. She opened her mouth to speak, but wasn’t sure if the words came out. The next thing she knew, she was on a stretcher with an IV in her arm and being transported to the hospital.

“You’re going to be okay.” Her mother held her hand.

“Where’s Cade? Has anything happened yet?”

“Shhh … Tyson’s monitoring the news. He’s in contact with the police. I’m sure Cade’s fine.”

“How can you be sure? What if they figure out Cade’s trying to trap them, and they ambush him instead?”

“Oh, sweetheart, you need to concentrate on getting well so Cade will have a wife to come back to.” Mother smoothed the stray hairs from her face. “Cade took you from the hospital too early, but Bonnie’s doing fine. I spoke to her doctor. She’s normal and there were no side effects from your heroin exposure. They tested her in every way and she’s a healthy little newborn.”

“Except we’re missing out on the mother-daughter bonding. My milk is going to dry out and she’s feeling abandoned. Who’s holding her and cuddling her? She’s lying in a bassinet being bottle fed by a nurse and left to herself most of the time.” Andie burst into tears.

“You’ll be together soon. She won’t even remember.” Her mother hugged her, rocking her shoulders. “We’ll all be together soon.”

# # #

Cade frowned as he got off the phone with Tyson. Andie had been taken to the hospital with postpartum infection and blood loss due to retained portions of her placenta.

He slapped his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. He shouldn’t have taken her from the hospital so early. Devon and Rob hadn’t shown up so far, and he could have waited another day before removing her.

He made another round of inspection on his property, before taking his backpack and hiking up a knoll in back of his house to a stand of birch trees and bushes where he’d placed a duck blind draped with marsh grasses and branches, borrowed from one of the local police officers.

Cade wore camouflage and he was armed with a twelve-gauge shotgun, not that he was supposed to shoot the invaders. He was to watch for them and call the police.

Several hours passed by. Cade spoke to the police and they hadn’t seen anyone suspicious. His legs were falling asleep from crouching in the blind, and he was beginning to feel stupid. The Andie mannequin hadn’t moved, obviously, since he set her there. Would Rob and Devon really be tricked? Maybe they were on to him already and had headed for Canada. Could he trust Tyson and his security team not to divulge Andie’s whereabouts? What if there was a mole?

Cade wandered from the blind and went back into his house to use the bathroom. Once finished, he moved the Andie mannequin to the kitchen table. Then he texted Danny who’d taken the red eye.

A few minutes later, Danny returned his text.
Dude, just landed. Picking up luggage. See you soon.

Now what? If Danny was the assassin, he’d be here in a little less than an hour, since he’d flown into Rochester, NY.

What would he do? Invite him in for a cup of coffee, then blow him away? But what if Danny were innocent and he was truly coming for the job?

Sheesh. Cade’s head swirled and he rubbed his face. Maybe he was screwing this entire thing up. Except he couldn’t leave things to the authorities. The manhunt had turned up nothing. No one had seen the two convicts, and they’d had outside help. They were riding in the back of a delivery van, and could have gone anywhere.

There was nothing to do but watch and wait. Cade tucked an ereader into the pocket of his camouflage jacket and picked up his shotgun. He walked out of the kitchen with one last glance of the Andie mannequin, sitting there with her flaming red hair. Up close, she wouldn’t fool anyone.

Pop, pop, pop. The kitchen window shattered. Cade crouched down and pumped his shotgun. Dammit. He should have rented that assault rifle. Now all he had were two shots that might not stop a full grown man.

Crack. The kitchen door smashed open and two masked men charged into the kitchen, plugging the mannequin full of holes.

Cade blasted a shot and hit the first man in the stomach.

“Holy shit!” the second man shouted and turned tail, running out the door. He sounded like Rob.

Cade aimed at the running man, but lowered his shotgun. He could never shoot a man in the back, and Rob had run outside his house, eliminating the castle defense.

He wouldn’t go far. Cade unmasked the dead man and stared into the shocking blue eyes of his half brother and former teammate, Devon Davis.

Two months later

“I’ve come up with the perfect business for Ronaldo’s theater during the offseason.” Andie told her family and friends as they gathered around her and Bonnie at Bonnie’s baby shower. They were sitting in the Pavilion at Prescott Point Park overlooking the beautiful Canandaigua Lake.

Beside her, Cade bounced Bret on his knee while dangling his Super Bowl ring for the boy to swat at.

Their newly disguised Aunt Beatrice shook a rattle at Bonnie and tickled the baby’s feet, while two well-dressed men stood on either side of her.

Barbara, renamed Beatrice, had nailed the kingpins of a notorious gang of building contractors who bribed local officials into overpriced contracts. After she provided the information, she was given further plastic surgery and a new identity.

“Oh, really?” Aunt Beatrice sniffed, looking like a stuck-up snob with old money. “No one comes to the Finger Lakes in the winter, not even to visit the wineries.”

“Care for a glass of wine?” Ambrose McCallister, the owner of Tall Duck Winery, offered to pour from a bottle of his family’s vintage collection. He and his mother had been hired to cater the affair.

“Why, sure. I’d love some now that I’m not pregnant,” Andie said.

“I’ll have sparkling grape juice,” Barbara said, glancing at her two bodyguards. “By the way, does anyone visit the wineries during the winter?”

Ambrose grinned and gave Andie a wink. “They will if Andie’s business takes off.”

“That’s right.” Andie swirled the glass in front of her nose and sampled the bouquet of scent. “People get married all year round. I’m going to be a wedding consultant specializing in historical wedding reenactments.”

“Historical weddings? How boring,” Aunt Beatrice huffed and sipped her grape juice. “Mmm … this is good stuff.”

Ambrose nodded and moved on to the table where Andie’s parents and relatives sat.

“We’ll have something for everyone,” Andie said. “They can choose from a variety of weddings and themes. It can either be famous people, an era, time and place, or from a theatrical drama or blockbuster movie, like
Phantom of the Opera
or
Antony and Cleopatra
, or even Michal’s wedding from
Michal’s Window
or
David Betrayed
, since her wedding tent is already part of the props. Particularly motivated individuals can write their own script, maybe give a happy ending to
Romeo and Juliet
.”

“Interesting concept.” Aunt Beatrice brushed lint off her business suit. “How much would people pay for something like this?”

Not only was Barb, er Aunt Beatrice, completely reformed, she dressed as if she were in the country club set, complete with two lackeys at her beck and call.

“Since I’ll be the only historical and themed wedding reenactment company in the world, they’ll pay a pretty penny.” Andie was confident and not about to let Aunt Beatrice dissuade her. “It’ll be a unique experience. Dad can help me do the research and write the script, as well as consult on historical accuracy. I can contract out with Sylvia to design the costumes for the extras. The bride and the groom will want custom outfits, but they can rent them if they want. Just think, we can have a wedding for the Empress of China, or an Elizabethan wedding, or wedding on Plymouth Rock.”

“Sounds like a match made in heaven.” Cade leaned over them, one hand on Andie’s shoulder and the other on his mother. “I’ll put you in charge of advertising.”

“You?” his mother said, raising her eyebrows. “I thought this was Mr. Silver’s venture.”

“He’s the front man, but now that he captured you and got the bounty, he’s on to bigger and better targets.”

“I was always his biggest and best target,” Aunt Beatrice said. “He’s sour I turned myself in, depriving him of the catch.”

“Except Sylvia and Leroy got credit,” Andie said. “She’d called Leroy when she recognized Joanie, and he contacted the FBI who rescued her from the locked room. Cade didn’t find them there that night because they were busy being interviewed.”

Cade stepped over to clarify what had happened. “Yep, and as for Ronaldo, if he hadn’t been going around spreading rumors of a resort and building a stadium, the real bad guys wouldn’t have contacted Mr. Van Roekens and gotten caught.”

Ronaldo had been clever. All the noise had done exactly what he’d intended, attracted greedy bees to the honeypot. Meanwhile, Sylvia and Leroy had shared in the reward. Of course they’d come to Itasca with a motive—to use Andie’s wedding to catch Barbara, as well as to help their friend have the wedding of her dreams.

Sylvia decided to stay on in Itasca to design costumes for the Lakeside Theater, but Leroy returned to Hollywood to pitch his scripts to movie producers, since his
David Betrayed
play had been panned by the critics, although he left them rights to use the play in her wedding business.

As for Rob, he was captured running down the street in sheer panic after Cade shot Devon. Not that Cade felt good about it. Some days, he had the blues about killing Devon, although in self defense, since Devon had come into the kitchen shooting.

Devon had been jealous his father, Dick, loved Cade from afar. As for Rob, he blamed Cade for inviting him to play Ultimate Frisbee which resulted in a career ending torn ligament in his knee. In college, Rob had been the first string quarterback and Cade the second. He never got over it, despite pretending to support Cade’s career as his agent.

Finally, Roxanne was satisfied to be an absentee mother to Bret, as long as she got pictures and one or two visits a year. If all went well with the waiting period, Bret would someday be Andie’s son officially.

Aunt Beatrice jutted her jaw at Cade and crossed her arms. “I still don’t think they deserved the bounty. I was the one who turned myself in. I should have gotten the reward.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Auntie,” Cade reminded her. “You’re lucky to get away in one piece. Need I remind you Donnie and Joanie are both back in jail for kidnapping Andie?”

“That’s because they wouldn’t take a deal.”

“To rat you out, Auntie,” Cade reminded her. “Now that you’re Beatrice Preston, why don’t you move in with us and keep Andie company once football season starts?”

“Too busy. You do know I’m not just working for the Feds?” Aunt Beatrice lowered her sunglasses and blinked at Cade and Andie. “I still have to go back to jail every night.”

“You do?” Cade gaped at Andie who shrugged, wide-eyed. “You said you were doing stings.”

“I am.” She glanced up at the two silent men standing on either side of her. “These aren’t my bodyguards, they’re prison guards. So, as much as I’d love a sleepover with my little Bonnie Blue, I’ll have to wait until she’s ten.”

She reached for the baby, and Andie handed her over. “Sorry, Barb, er, I mean Aunt Beatrice. I didn’t know.”

“I get time off to visit, as you can see. It helps with my cover story as an oil and gas heiress.” She kissed little Bonnie and stared in her eyes. “We’ll have such fun playing dress up, won’t we? By the time you’re ready for a wedding, we’ll have a blast. Cade, can you unwrap Bonnie’s present?”

Cade picked up a box and held it for Bret, who loved to rip pretty paper off of presents. “One more for you, bud.”

Squealing with glee, Bret stuck his chubby fingers over the brightly colored wrapping paper and tore it to pieces. Cade pulled out a baby sized white tee-shirt with frilly lace trim and a logo, “Weddings are History.”

“That’s wonderful,” Andie said. “How’d you know I was struggling to find a name for my business?” Andie reached over and hugged Cade’s mother.

“Mothers always know. Welcome to the club.”

~ The End ~

Thank you, muchas gracias, danke sch
ö
n, mahalo, salamat!

And congratulations! You’re finally finished with Andie and Cade’s love story—all six parts.

If you enjoyed Intercepted by Love, please review all six parts and tell all your friends. Andie and Cade and I can use your fervent support.

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A large part of Andie's fantasy life revolved around being Princess Michal to her imagined lover, David.

Michal's Window
was my first book, and it holds a special place in my heart. Princess Michal is the reason I'm writing in the first place. I was so enthralled by her story that I couldn't get her out of my mind until I'd written her life story in detail.

She was the only woman in the Bible who loved a man. Seriously. Go check it out. Nowhere else in the Bible does any woman love a man. Not only that, she loved David the shepherd boy when he was a nobody.

If you're curious about how I fictionalized her story, please read an excerpt from
Michal's Window
and join me on her journey from princess to fugitive to wife of a King who married many other women. See how Michal shows David that she is only woman who truly loves him. Follow Michal from the first time she meets David to their blessed reunion up above. I hope you enjoy
Michal's Window
as much as I did.

Michal’s Window (A Novel: King David’s First Wife)
,
a powerful and emotional journey as lived through the eyes of Princess Michal, King David’s first wife. Married as a prize, abandoned as a wife, Michal fights to claim her rightful spot next to King David, the man she loves with all her heart.

Excerpt Copyright © 2012 Rachelle Ayala

All Rights Reserved

CHAPTER ONE

“Your music displeased King Saul. Useless cur!” Soldiers shoved a man to the ground in front of David.

The man writhed and begged, “Have mercy. I’ve a family to feed.”

A soldier grabbed the man’s arm and lashed it to a wooden block. David prayed silently on the man’s behalf. The man shrieked as the soldier raised an axe and dropped it on the block, severing the hand. An old man dabbed hot pitch to the bloody stump while the man howled. Another soldier threw a reed flute in the dust. “That’s mercy enough for begging.”

The king’s steward jerked his thumb at David. “You know what you’re here for.”

David’s fingers turned cold and his breath hitched. He entered the courtyard and pulled out his harp. A band of sweat prickled his forehead as he tuned it. Rumor told of a king out of control, unable to lead battles to defend Israel. His physicians had searched the kingdom looking for musicians to calm him and soothe his spirit.

David finished adjusting the pegs. The departing screams of the flutist scratched a chill down his back. How many others had been maimed? He swallowed to wet his dry throat. His playing had better be perfect.
So help me, God.

Brisk footsteps crunched on the path, and a servant announced, “Behold, Prince Jonathan.”

A tall man with perceptive eyes greeted him. “So, you’re the son of Jesse. How was your journey?”

“Fine, my lord.” David bowed, wary of the prince’s pleasant demeanor. Jonathan wore fine clothing: Egyptian linen, a prayer shawl with blue and silver tassels, and a leather sleeve slung across his chest. A golden crown highlighted his chestnut curls.

David tugged at his tattered shawl to hide the patches on his robe and followed the prince through the garden. Lilies danced in the breeze and the fragrance of jasmine poured over a whitewashed ledge.

Jonathan stopped in front of a wooden door and knocked. “Father, the harpist is here.”

“Tell him to wait,” a powerful voice called back. “My daughter is reading scripture to me.”

Jonathan pushed open the door. “This man sings scripture and weaves the words with music. I promise you’ll be delighted.”

David gulped back fear. The young prince was so bold. But it wasn’t his head on the line.

The king grunted for them to enter. David clutched his harp and stepped into the overheated chamber. The pungent odor of burnt hemp tightened his chest. King Saul, as large a man as rumored, slouched on a gilded couch.

A young woman placed a scroll on the table and stood to leave. David closed his mouth and dropped to the floor. Her stunning beauty drained any trace of composure from his heart.

“Michal, sit. You may stay,” the king said.

Michal.
David whispered her name. He closed his eyes and moistened his lips. “My king, I’m David, the son of Jesse, your servant.”

Jonathan tapped David and pointed to a sheepskin-covered dais at the side of the couch. David took the seat and inhaled to quiet his speeding pulse. He forced his shoulders back and lifted his hands to strum, unable to keep from glancing at the princess. Her gaze drifted from his eyes, to his mouth, to his chest and hands. His throat tightened. How could he sing with her looking at him like that?

The king prodded his daughter, and she lowered her face. David willed his fingers to stretch and caress the taut strings. The harp responded with a sprinkling of chords, and he sang of God’s glorious creation and marvelous works. Again, his eyes gravitated toward the princess. And he sang of beauty, grace, and God’s loving-kindness.

The princess smiled, lifting an eyebrow. Her father looked at her and thumped his pipe on the table. David flinched, frozen in mid-strum. Panic speared his chest, and he pinpointed his gaze to the floor. The guards at the king’s side did not move. Sweat trickled down the side of his face as he counted down the minutes of his life.

“Your music pleases me,” the king said. “You’re dismissed.”

David bowed and backed out of the chamber. The princess stood, graceful and lithe. Her eyes were green and flecked with emotions he could not read. A cascade of rosewood-colored hair swept the challenging tilt of her face. She walked toward him. A thunderbolt slammed his heart, and he could hardly breathe.
She belongs to me.

She shut the door.

* * *

My elder sister, Merab, stepped into my room and poked me with her spindle. “Well, Michal, what do you think of Father’s new servant?”

I tightened the threads on the loom and adjusted the weights. I had hoped Merab wouldn’t notice David. But as usual, she made it her business to inquire about every young man who frequented the palace.

“He’s a servant.” I lifted my chin and swept a thread off my sleeve. “And besides, I’m not supposed to talk to him.”

She twirled her spindle. “All the better. He can’t refuse to talk to you. I’ve always found serving boys very accommodating.”

“Well, if you’re so interested, why don’t you—” I didn’t want Merab to toy with David. She had a way of stripping her suitors of their dignity before she refused bride prices rich enough to buy the daughter of Pharaoh.

She tapped my shoulder. “Way below my sights. A shabby servant. And you? Blushing and stammering already. I dare you to kiss him, baby sister. Don’t forget to pay Mother’s maid to look the other way.”

She walked away with a dismissive laugh.

I set my weaving aside. Unlike my sister, I had never spoken to a man alone nor been kissed. But I had observed her tactics. And I was no longer a baby.

Perhaps I would approach David. He appeared humble and kind—and oh, so handsome. And when he sang, he showed a tenderness that made me tremble. And his fingers, solid yet fluid, caressed over chords as delicate as the morning dew.

David. His name meant ‘beloved.’
Dah-veed.
I clicked my tongue and pinched my lower lip with a wet bite. David and Michal. I rolled the words and imagined long walks in the woods and lingering evenings in the moonlight.

I changed into a delicate, rose-colored dress and twisted my hair with a golden comb. A necklace of fiery rubies and matching earrings completed my outfit. Satisfied with my appearance, I opened my door and peered down the corridor.

It was the quiet time right before the evening meal when Mother napped and Father held court. Merab sang love songs in her room, mooning over Adriel, a married friend of our family. What my parents didn’t know could fill a book.

I meandered through the garden and slipped past the kitchen to the servants’ quarters. What luck! David sat alone on a bench, reading. I stepped to his side, cast my shadow over his scroll and startled him.

“Walk with me.” I presented my hand, and he took it. But before he could press it to his lips, I withdrew. “You’ll have to catch me first. There’s an abandoned guard shack right above the granary on the old section of the palace wall.”

Not waiting for a reply, I walked across the storage yard and skipped up the wooden steps. A new set of walls extended a hundred yards beyond, leaving this part of the battlements isolated. Here, I often spied on my brothers while they exercised in the training yard below. I also had a view of my parents’ separate bedchambers.

A veiled woman entered my father’s chamber. A few years older than I, she was given to my father to promote her father’s position. I would have pitied her if she weren’t so haughty, although being bed toy to the king was hardly a laudable accomplishment.

“I found you.” David appeared at the top of the steps.

“I knew you’d come.” I pursed my lips to hide a smile of delight. This was easier than I thought.

“Are you alone?”

“Why no. You’re here, aren’t you?” I held out my hand. “We haven’t been properly introduced. Michal, daughter of Saul, of Gibeah.”

He clasped my hand. “David, son of Jesse, of Bethlehem.”

His voice as unyielding as his grasp, he swept my palm to his lips. Warm tingles radiated from his kiss. His honey-colored eyes brightened before lowering under gold-tipped lashes.

I leaned toward him. “Have you ever courted a maiden?”

He straightened to release my hand, but I squeezed his fingers and trapped him with my other hand. A fierce blush colored his face. “I’ve never courted a princess.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Would it matter?” He cocked his head and turned up a corner of his mouth.

“How dare you! Of course, it matters.”

“Would it matter that I’m a poor man? A servant of your father?”

I dropped his hand and leaned over the windowsill. The scent of night jasmine wafted from the garden below. “It depends on what you wish for in your heart.”

“My wishes or yours?”

“Yours first. Tell me.”

He gazed at the horizon. He seemed an intelligent man with a masculine face. Not broad, but angular—strong brows over deep set eyes, a distinctive nose, and a crown of copper-brown hair unruly like my goat-hair pillow. When he settled his eyes on me, I hardly dared to breathe.

“Peace for Israel,” he said.

“Is that possible?” I drew closer.

“Yes, if we have peace with God first.”

His profound statement stirred my pulse and kindled a flame, an aching, twisting pang. Unable to sustain his probing gaze, I turned toward the setting sun. Its burnished rays bathed the jagged walls of our palace, dappling the rugged hills with shadows of gold, crimson, and brown.

“So you’re a man of peace. Very good. What about love? Do you wish for love?”

He took my hand and traced my palm with his thumb.

Oh, my soul.
A thrill shot straight to my heart. A lone hawk screeched, banked and crested toward the tip of the disappearing light.

“Princess, how old are you?” His voice deepened.

I hovered into the warmth of his chest. “Ancient. As old as these hills.”

“Have you ever been courted?”

I shook my head.

“As old as you say you are and a princess too. Tell me, Michal, have you ever been in love?” He raised my hand to his lips but dropped it without kissing it.

Crickets serenaded the darkening sky with scratchy chirps, accompanied by the throaty croak of a persistent toad. I trembled, and David wrapped his arms around me. His scent pulsed hot with sandalwood, raking me with a newborn sense of longing. And his hands, oh, so firm, tightened around my waist, and his prayer shawl entangled my fingers, and his body, oh, the press of his body… made me want…

Voices sounded from the courtyard below, and I pulled back from the window ledge.

David turned me into the shadow of the wall. He brushed my lips so lightly I couldn’t tell if he had touched me with his breath or his mouth. The wind gusted, and he was gone.

I clung to my shawl, holding in his warmth, the strength of his shoulders, the excitement of his chest. I had never allowed a man to hold me before. But David was different. He awoke strange and uncontrollable sensations. A tiny star shivered, wavered, and plummeted straight into my heart, mingling with my unspoken wish. And I knew at once why songs are sung and ballads told.

* * *

The sun broke through after a few days of rain. I donned a saffron gown trimmed with golden threads and pulled golden bracelets on my wrists. Mother braided my hair and insisted I wear a scarf. I pulled on a diaphanous one and headed for the wall to enjoy the sun. Unlike Merab, my olive complexioned skin did not burn easily. The small scroll of Ruth under my arm, I climbed the steps two at a time.

David looked up from the bench in the guard shack. His eyes widened, and a smile crept on his face. “Nice day, Princess.”

I stopped at the top of the stairs. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“This is such a peaceful place. You don’t mind sharing?” He moved his harp to make room.